


How Pretty You Are, Fallen Flower.

by exactlimit



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Fluff, Father Figures, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kim Jongdae | Chen-centric, Light Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exactlimit/pseuds/exactlimit
Summary: A memory was playing on his eyes, blurring the world around him in an empty stare."It's alright. Daddy's got you."
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Lil' Something Fest 2020





	How Pretty You Are, Fallen Flower.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> It's been several years since I've started my writing hiatus so, this might actually be the first work I've posted in a while. My recommendation is to listen to these songs by Chen in a row: Flower, Shall we?, and I'll be there. I hope you'll enjoy reading my work as much as I did writing it!

The early September sun hugs the silent room with warmth as a sliver of light rises from a window left slightly ajar; its’ shine slowly unveiling what hides behind the closed curtains that sway to a gentle morning breeze. A sparse room of nothing but one’s bare necessities can be seen. A clock resting upon a dresser in the far corner of the room; its’ hands pointing vertically as light snores and small rustles reverberate along with it’s’ tick. A lone mirror standing by the door, glinting back sunlight in proud reflection. And a bed for one tucked under the window with someone’s slow and rhythmic breathing animating the covers. The buzz of a device, however, jolts them awake.

Kim Jongdae was 26 when he decided he would live by himself. In his mind, it felt lonelier in a crowded house of many than it is to be alone. His thoughts were the most comforting company he had, and by the time he had coped with the fact that his best pair was himself, he had already finished packing all of his bags to leave to a pre-prepared apartment somewhere in the hustle and bustle of Seoul.

In the beginning, it was hard for him to balance everything on his own. It was not that he was unable to live alone but the responsibilities that came with it were an overwhelming undertaking. Even the smallest problem like a leak in the kitchen would be a pesky task that hindered his already occupied schedule. In his mind, however, the small missteps he had gone through were valuable learning experiences that he could have never gotten if he hadn’t decided to start anew. He became better in doing housework and also in learning whom he truly was in the seclusion of his new lonesome home.

The foggy memory of his early days alone crept in and out of his mind stealthily, almost like an intruder that leaves empty-handed. He blinks once, twice, and by the third blink, he was back in the present in his dead silent room. Both his feet fell on the cold ceramic floor; the chill of it helps sober him as he wipes both his eyes from sleep. There were a few missed notifications on his phone; one by one he replies to them before standing up with a grunt, trotting his way out of the bedroom.

The hallway outside his bedroom was short and narrow; hung on its’ walls were pictures and paintings he holds close to his heart. A photo of him and a loved one, the scribbling of wax on paper, anything and everything that would make him remember fond memories of youth. With bleary eyes, his hands lightly drag along the walls in balance while his feet made barely audible noises against the soft runner that ran along the length of the hallway. The dimly lit destination gave little to no help to his blurry vision in seeing the path he is walking through. After a few stumbles, he arrived at the destined adjoining kitchen and living room.

The room was considerably spacious for a man who rarely has guests over. A large window facing southeast decorates the living room area which had a comfortable linen-lined sectional, a small coffee table, a lone standing lamp, and an entertainment center. The kitchen was directly across it with a counter that doubles as a breakfast bar serving as a divider between the two areas, as well as a nice place to converse in as the food preparation area was just to the right of it. Lastly, between them was the main door to the apartment.

Jongdae gripped both his hands onto either side of the curtain in the living room area and drew it open with a thrash. The sun peeks from his peripheral view and the warmth engulfs him in that instant. He closes his eyes in the bask and takes a few slow breaths; delicate eyelashes graze his cheeks and he thinly smiles to himself, content with the morning and its’ early haze. The tips of his fingers touch the tinted glass in front of him, feeling the warmth of day as thoughts race through his mind. A memory was playing on his eyes, blurring the world around him in an empty stare.

* * *

_“I can’t do this anymore,” a voice is heard from the other end of a call. “I wasn’t ready, I was stupid, and—“_

_No one spoke a single word as a heavy weight hung in the cold and silent apartment for one._

_“I’m sorry.” the voice continues almost inaudibly._

_A young and youthful Kim Jongdae wiped his face with his free hand as he heaved a large sigh. He smiled, albeit quivering to keep it plastered on, forgetting that no one can see it, not even himself. “It’s alright,” he began, “what do you suppose we do now?”_

_It had been a tiresome day for him; work was slowly piling back in a steady pace. He spent a fraction of his time resting and most of it at the office; rarely does he meet his own reflection in the mirror, more so his own family. Today was the worst day he had had in the month he’s been busy. He overslept due to the previous day’s working hours that dragged well into the early morning. He made many mistakes in the recording room, thus having him repeating lines for God knows how many times. And to top it all off, he forgot where he parked his car resulting in him spending an additional hour to look for it, only to find out he parked it on the floor below where he was. Despite all that, Kim Jongdae was a patient man. He knows how to control his anger and where to direct it. He knows not to vent his aggravation to someone else just because he had a ‘bad day’. Kim Jongdae was a calm and collected man._

_At present, however, gone was the patient man with a plastered on smile. His conversation partner had not reply immediately, almost nervous to answer, afraid of adding salt to wound. But, before he could say a single word, she voiced the true intention of her call._

_“I’ve dropped her off at the lobby.” She says in somber._

_Moments of unbearable silence passed by; the sound of the clock’s ticking became as loud as a ship’s horn voicing out their departure to sea. His eyes went wide in shock and fear; fingers trembling to hold the phone as he pressed it further into his ear as if sound could not travel any closer between him and the device he held._

_“What do you mean you ‘dropped her off’?” His voice shook in a mixture of panic and distress. Palms covered in cold sweat, he gripped his phone tighter as he strode swiftly to the door._

_“I’m sorry…it’s alright to not forgive me for leaving but, please don’t hate her because of this.” Quiet sobbing from across the line escaped his notice. The call had already ended for him after she said someone was waiting for his arrival. He ran to the elevator, pacing back and forth waiting for the sound of it’s ‘ding’ which signaled the arrival of a small cramped box that would take him closer to his destination._

_Waiting for the elevator to arrive at the lobby felt like a prolonged pain Jongdae has never felt before. All that occupied his mind was guilt, regret, worry, all the things a parent would never wish to feel regarding their child. He held in a silent tear as he clenched his fists till white knuckles were all they were. The moment the doors open and the view of the lobby appears in his sight, he had already started running towards the lounge area to find his loved one._

_He stopped dead in his tracks once he caught a glimpse of a little girl, not more than 5 years of age, sitting by her lonely self in a sofa that was far too tall for her. She had a pink backpack on her shoulders, decorated with butterflies of purple and blue, a familiar sight as he had given it to her as a gift for starting preschool. Her eyes drifted around the lobby, taking in the sight of lights, people bustling, and odd ornaments that decorate the walls. Meanwhile, his breath hitched in solemn melancholy, afraid to cause an eye-catching scene in the middle of a crowd. Both of his hands instinctively reach to his own nose and mouth; muffling his strained sobs and sniffles. He tilted his head up and dropped both of his hands back down, returning to the hard fists they were just before. A last deep inhale and his feet moves him towards her in a slow but firm pace._

_He slowly went to a halt, just in her line of sight. He mustered a weak smile and waited until she looked his way. As soon as she did, his knees fell to the floor into a crouch as he sets his arms wide open, inviting a warm embrace to his precious little girl. Her beaming smile, an expectation fulfilled that whomever she waited for has come and found her, had glossed his eyes and clenched his heart. Despite his mixed feelings, all he wanted now was to have her in his arms and to never let her go._

_“Daddy!” She yelled as she leapt from her seat, feet almost stumbling as she ran towards him in full throttle._

_She plunged into his arms, almost toppling him backwards by the sheer force of it. He held her tightly, more than he had ever held her before, but still gentle enough as if she could break in his arms if he weren’t careful. Slight sobs escape his meek smile as he rests his chin on the child’s head; his arms wrap around her tiny frame like a protective cage. In this moment, he made a promise to her in his heart that he would never desert her; from now on it would be just him and her, nothing can ever break them apart._

_“It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.”_

* * *

As the memory reels in his mind fully unroll, his legs catch his slightly limp body, swinging him with a slight spin towards the sectional. He doesn’t mind to adjust his awkward and lax position but only stares at the empty ceiling above him. Aimless thoughts flood his mind; ‘what shall he do today?’, ‘will his favorite series update soon?’, ‘should he make coffee or drink orange juice?’, all of which a sheer façade to veil the salient memory that had occupied his mind a moment earlier. A stray tear rolled down under his temple, missing his cheeks, and disappears under his collar. He chuckled at it’s abrupt exit from his eyes, knowing it would come to this as his emotions have overflowed well past it’s breaking point. His mouth opens to muster a whisper; strained neck forming a croak in his throat and made his vocalized thoughts blend in rasp.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left both of you alone.” His voice sounds like it was bitten with frost. “But with my workload increasing and everyone’s eyes on the both of you, what choice did I have…” Another tear escaped from him, bringing a sob and a stifle along with it. His fists mold into a familiar grip of white while it clings to a nearby throw.

Preoccupied with thoughts, he failed to realize the sound of buttons that beeped to unlock the entrance of the apartment. A figure had already been resting by the doorframe since a sob echoed the room, forgoing entry with a bitter and helpless smile of her own. An inaudible sigh escaped her lips despite the silence looming over the apartment’s walls. She finally propped herself to walk inside and closed the door behind her, after which dropping bags of cotton on the counter, signaling her arrival.

He snapped his head towards the kitchen in shock as she turned her back towards him. Hiding a smile, she tells him, “I know,” while feign-rummaging through the bags she brought earlier. “Mom knew, eventually I did too.” She spun in her heels and pulled a bar chair to sit down and face him properly. Fiddling with her fingers and averting gaze in a downcast was a spitting image of her mother, an image lost in the trove of his memories; undesired in dust. A befitting and comfortable silence drape around the two; a polar opposite despite a direct bloodline of what once was.

“I still contact her, you know.” She starts, still downcast while Jongdae froze as he sat across the room, still wide-eyed with an unreadable expression. “She regrets that she left me and you that day,” she stifled a meaningless laugh. “And through a phone call, too.”

Jongdae composes himself and set an empty glance towards the blank TV screen. His expression was now calm; he had understood the circumstances that brought about the separation between him and the mother of his child. He was young and so was she. Him being under the spotlight meant that his family would also face the scrutiny of the public, and it can be too much for someone who had never gone through that all their lives. He had thought that leaving the two of them to stay home while he lives somewhere near work was the best option to keep his small family intact. However, the stress of having to face so many things alone was too much for the both of them. It was unintentional but understandable; they are only human after all.

Recollecting the past few years of his life with a light grin, he was longer a man who was eager to face the world with a new hope but, a man who had ventured through the woods and found a solemn river that flows to the open ocean; he wanted peace. Rays of sunshine had intensified within the room and gave light to unseen details of his appearance that has changed over the years. The wrinkes around his mouth and eyes has deepened, his hair has grown into a lighter shade of gray, his veins form more noticeable curves around the top of his hands. He has aged well.

He turned towards his daughter and smiled at her lovingly before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. “Well, what’s that you got over there?” He asks as he prepares a pot of coffee for two.

“Take a wild guess!” His daughter replied with a cheeky smile.

“Hmm…” he placed one hand on the counter facing her and another on his chin. “Oh I don’t know, you know I’m bad at guessing.” He chuckled and took a peek at a small opening on the bag.

She laughed and opened the bag for him to see, contained within it was a large box from a nearby bakery he absolutely adored, a few slim candles were attached atop of it. Her hands gently placed the box in front of him and took out its’ content; a chocolate and strawberry cake that is a bit pinkish in color. She placed the candles on the cake and pulled a lighter out of the same bag. After all the candles are lit, she looked towards him in slight anticipation.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” She exclaimed.

His gaze tenders in fondness. She was still the same little girl who waited for him at the lobby of his old apartment. The same look in her eyes when she is excited in waiting, the same smile, nothing about her changed except that she was now older and more mature. She is still his little girl.

“Wow, cake for breakfast, huh?” He says with a grin. “You remember that I’m getting old, right? Aren’t you supposed to be making me eat healthier?”

Both of them laughed in unison, the warmth of it melting any coldness that was present in the room. If anyone were to see them now their hearts will grow so large it might turn into envy, it was such strong of a bond between them that none of the previous conversation seemed to matter.

He made a wish in his heart, a new promise to both himself and his daughter. He promised to live the remainder of his life well and to no longer think of the past behind him. He blew on the candles and heaved a large smile, teeth and all.

“Even if something happens to you because of this cake,” she laughed slightly and looked straight towards him, never breaking eye contact and never losing smile; exactly like how he had taught her all these years.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you now, Dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> And with that, I hope I can write more works in the future that can be even better than before, and I also wish happiness to all of the readers that has made it to this point. You've worked hard.
> 
> Happy birthday Kim Jongdae! We love you very much!


End file.
